


Touching his back with my hand I kiss him

by wormestboys



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia RPF, Sufjan Stevens (Musician)
Genre: Crack, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, mentions of swoleness, or...is it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 13:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10387698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormestboys/pseuds/wormestboys
Summary: Juilliard graduate Glenn Howerton and American indie folk singer Sufjan Stevens find love in an unexpected place.





	

Glenn has been dreaming of meeting American singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Sufjan Stevens since he got the album 'A Sun Came' from his mom as a gift for graduating from The Juilliard School (A/N: Glenn went to Juilliard). As an actor, he's been amazed by Suf's (as he liked to call him) art hoe ways of living (like writing a 25 minute long song) tremendously. And of course, the boy's swole as shit.

But he has never dared to speak of his secret admiration to anyone and the only way he could express his love was to write poems in his secret sournal (Suf journal) that he kept with himself at all times.

"I long for his swole arms" he scribbled while hiding in a janitor's closet on the set of his hit FX show _It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia_ "I wish he wrote a song for me." _This doesn't even rhyme_ he thought to himself _but Suf would say that it doesn't matter, would he?_ As he kept thinking about ways to express his gentle love for the talented indie-folk singer (to mention one the genres he excels at) someone started banging on the closet's door.

"Glenn, are you in here? We have a scene to shoot, you can write in your diary later." said the voice behind the door, probably one of the fuckheads he has to work with.

"IT'S NOT A DIARY, IT'S A JOURNAL!" he screamed with his best Juilliard voice. If only Suf was here, he wouldn't make fun of his journal. He'd probably admire his artistic thoughts and take Glenn out for dinner or something. Unfortunately, he had to keep making a living (to buy Suf's albums and merch of course) so he went back on set. After running around in latex and screaming at people for a few hours, he decided to call it a day (he wasn't an executive producer for nothing after all). He continued writing his unfinished poem after getting home, but it all felt so futile. He wanted to share his genius with the world but he wasn't sure if the world was ready for it. He knew one person who'd for sure understand him more than anyone, but how could he share his thoughts with his idol. Then an incredible idea stroke Glenn. What if he mailed his journal to Sufjan? Maybe he'd write back or just keep the journal, either way the journal would finally gain a purpose.

First thing he did after waking up was going to the post office and mailing his journal to Suf's address (which he absolutely did not find on a stalker's website). He even attached a letter to the journal. _"Dear Suf, I feel like I can call you Suf because you and me are so alike."_ he reminisced about the first line as he waited in line. He hoped Suf would feel the strength of their connection just like Glenn did and seek him out after recieving the journal.

He waited weeks and weeks for a response, asking his secretery every day if he got a special phone call or a delivery (" _maybe Suf will send his journal to me"_ ) but he didn't hear anything from Suf. "I am lost without your love." he wrote in his newly bought journal, but ever since mailing his old one he lost all inspiration to write. He felt incredibly hopeless until one day, after work he found a figure leaning against his car, whose face he couldn't see because they were wearing like 6 baseball hats.

"Can I help you?" he asked with a slightly wavering voice; after all it was getting dark and this many baseball hats can intimidate even the bravest of men.

"I'm looking for Glenn Franklin Howerton III, born in Japan, Juilliard graduate." said a deep a voice that he knew oh so well. The figure took off around three baseball hats, revealing his beautiful face. It was...him.

"That's, that's me." he whispered.

"I'm American singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Sufjan Stevens. I'm here because I recieved your journal and it touched me in ways I've never been touched before. I don't date all that much, but you seem nice, you know? Would you like to have dinner with me?" His deep baritone reached deep within Glenn's soul and kept it inside his body (A/N: because his soul tends to leave his body, like when you stop a vid of him and he stops being in motion and he looks lifeless? hmu for the full m'eta). How could he say no to an offer like that?

They went out to a local famous Italian restaurant and just as Glenn suspected they would, they hit it off immediately. They talked about hats and cryptids and all kinds of fun stuff, they just had such interesting conversation, it was lovely.

He let Suf drive him home, because he might have had a bit too much wine with his carbonara. After unlocking his door he turned back to say goodbye but all thoughts flew out of his head after locking eyes with the lying son of a gun who said he'd make albums about all 50 states then just gave up after 2.

“Suf, you’re so swole” he accidently blurted out. He felt compelled to spill all the secrets he kept deep inside him, Suf's gaze was so powerful.

“You know Glenn, I have to confess something. The only thing bigger than my arms is my love for God...” said Sufjan while soulfully looking into Glenn’s blueish-greenish orbs. Glenn was shocked by the intensity of his gaze (and his swole form) but mostly, by what he said continued with.

“And my love for you, Glennothy.”

“S-Suf…” the nickname made Glenn even more flustered (AN: he was flustered before that because Suf’s fucking swole) and turned away to hide his embarassment. Gently, a swole hand touched his face and he found himself incredibly close to Suf. He could feel the American singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist's breath on his cheek as he leaned closer but he stopped as their lips were mere inches from touching, because he knew Glenn wanted to take things slowly and he respected his decision so he wanted his absolute consent before doing anything. And because, of course, respecting each other's boundaries is incredibly hot, Glenn closed the remaining distance between them, their lips softly meeting as Suf rested his hand on Glenn's back and the moonlight illuminated them on Glenn's porch. The few seconds held an infinity in them and Suf was already drafting a song about it in his head that people will misinterpret as a song about Jesus probably. Both of them will have the memory of this night forever ingrained in their minds.

"I will protect you from the wasps" Suf whispered into the space between them and while Glenn had no idea what the hell Suf was talking about, he knew he could trust him with his life (even though he lied about the 50 states project).

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> "if i wrote a glenn howerton/sufjan stevens fic would it be too niche or would it bring world peace?" - tumblr user killglennhowerton at half past 6 on the night before her statistics exam. this all started because i spent all weekend listening to swoleboy while reading macdennis fics and my mental image of mac slowly shifted from rob mcelhenney's face to sufjan steven's. then it all sort of spiralled from there and came down to glenn and sufjan belonging together. i guess.
> 
> thanks kriszti @swolejanstevens for the inspiring url.


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